


i was surrounded by phonies

by misspandalily



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Alternate Universe - Ilvermorny, F/M, Ilvermorny, M/M, Slow Burn, bughead - Freeform, the slowest burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-31
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2018-10-13 06:49:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10508502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misspandalily/pseuds/misspandalily
Summary: "He works twelve-hour shifts at the Chock'lit Shop, wears the cheese-yellow uniform with a perennially unhappy grimace, and lets the white apron crumple at his waist out of passive-aggressive spite." A Riverdale Harry Potter AU.





	1. who wants flowers when you're dead?

**Author's Note:**

> Because when you still have a million other fics to go through, and are still halfway through the majority of your next chapter updates, obsessing over another fandom is the way to go. I present to you: Riverdale's finest, Bughead (in Harry Potter form). 
> 
> Please note that I don't own anything aside from my own words, and that I am aware of Jughead's canonical asexuality. I have no issue with that, but I just need to say that asexual is not the same as aromantic. Nothing is preventing him or anyone from pursuing a relationship whilst still being asexual.
> 
> Also, I'm Australian so I literally had no idea the world of Archie Comics® existed until I started watching CW's Riverdale. What I write is based on my understanding of what I see on the show, and I am sorry if you feel personally offended.

_"Who wants flowers when you're dead? Nobody."_

_\- J.D. Salinger, Catcher in the Rye_

* * *

 

It happened over the summer.

Blades of grass whipping against their legs, white muslin cloth flying back against the wind, the roaring of Sweetwater River as it thunders through the forest.

Blazing hair the colour of fire against a backdrop of blue and green.

That summer, Jason Blossom was declared dead, his body lost to the pull of the water, his sister drowning in her sorrows.

* * *

 

He works twelve-hour shifts at the Chock'lit Shop, wears the cheese-yellow uniform with a perennially unhappy grimace, and lets the white apron crumple at his waist out of passive-aggressive spite.

Jughead Jones, on principle, isn't a big smiler. He has a deadbeat dad who spends his days consuming more alcohol than either of them can afford, Headmaster Weatherbee's demanding him to stay on lockdown in the sleepy no-maj town of Riverdale for the summer vacation, and he has to smile 24/7 to get paid minimum wage at a job as hopeless as his dad.

And his name is Jughead, to boot.

Or, Forsythe.

Pendleton.

Jones.

The Third.

On the bright side, Pop Tate gives him free hamburgers during his (many) lunch breaks - they're the only things keeping him sane in this dark, dark world he calls his home.

In reality, however, it's not dark. Riverdale is wholesome, at the very least, like Betty Crocker's house imprinted itself across the entire town. There's green parks with duck ponds and white picket fences with blooming red rosebushes lining every street. No, really. Jughead wishes he's joking.

He's surrounded by people who talk, dress and act like they're in a '50s sitcom. He's fifteen, and he hasn't met one person besides maybe Archie who can relate to him on a nice, toned-down wavelength. It helps that they go to 'school' together, too.

With Betty Cooper, who he suddenly realises is sitting in a corner booth with the heels of her palms massaging her temples and her features scrunched up into a frown. The rest of the diner is empty, and Pop is busy wiping at invisible particles on the juke box, so he sets his tea towel down and walks over.

"Hey," he mumbles, teeth barely separating when he enunciates his greeting. She jolts up, evidently surprised, then gives him a forced grin before motioning to the empty seat.

"Hey, Juggie." Jughead takes a seat, a little thrown off at the lack of chattering exuberance he's come to associate with the youngest Cooper.

"Bad day?"

She gives him a look, a cross between shock and indignation, though he isn't sure what to think of it just yet. Is it something on his face?

"You mean you don't know?"

Betty stresses like the last word like she's expecting him to be the first one to _know_. And in many cases, he is. He's the town sleuth. But he's also been stuck inside a diner since nine in the morning so in all fairness-

"It's Jason," Betty continues when his expression remains blank.

"He's _dead_."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer! I don't own Riverdale OR Harry Potter.

**_i was surrounded by phonies_ **

* * *

_"The only thing that would be different would be you."_

_\- J.D. Salinger, Catcher in the Rye_

* * *

"Dead," Jughead echoes her, somewhat dumbfounded.

Betty blinks, purses her lips, and looks to the side. The strawberry milkshake he doesn't recall bringing out is flat, the cherry on top beginning to sink down to the bottom. He's worked at Pop's long enough to know how what milkshakes look like when they're left out for a long time, sadly, so it's safe for him to assume that she's been here for at least an hour.

What surprises him more is that it's ten at night. He knows as a fact that Alice Cooper enforces a strict deadline at eight, unless Betty's doing wholesome things like organising charity fundraisers or studying for their upcoming OWLs. In fact, her dishevelled appearance is starting to disconcert him because the humans of Casa Cooper, on principle, do _not_ overtly display physical imperfections.

Except Betty absolutely is.

"Cheryl-" Her voice breaks off as soon as she starts talking. He is patient - an acquired talent he'd obtained after becoming a waiter - and glances away when she blinks back tears. "Dilton found Cheryl a few hours ago at Sweetwater River. She was soaking wet, shivering on the rocks, and when the police arrived, she told them she'd gone rowing with Jason in the morning," Betty sighs. "The official story is that her glove fell into the water, and when Jason jumped in to retrieve it..."

"He drowned," Jughead finishes off. Betty nods in confirmation. His forehead creases. Jason's death-story seems as credible as pigs flying. He doesn't know Jason personally, because the Blossom twin-brother is a No-maj and spends next to no time in the magical community. But he's heard Cheryl boasting about 'Jay-Jay' in Ilvermorny corridors and can't help but wonder how the captain of Riverdale High's water polo team managed to drown in a river that was at low-tide a few hours ago.

And why didn't Cheryl use her magic to save her brother?

He holds his tongue when Betty exhales and sinks her head back into her hands, saving his speculations for another time.

"That's...unfortunate."

Jughead watches her ponytail disappear from his view as her head pops up again. "But you know what's really awful? His body."

His eyebrows shoot up. "What do you mean?"

"They've been combing the River ever since Dilton's Scouts found Cheryl, but Jason's body is missing," her tone rises, hands wildly gesturing around as she speaks, "It's like he completely vanished."

"No one just vanishes when they die," Jughead says critically. "If he really drowned in the Sweetwater River, then his body should have shown up by now. What reason could there possibly be-"

"Jug!" Pop's voice suddenly rings through the diner, cutting him off. "You mind taking the order?"

He swivels around, sees a woman in a thick fur coat making her way to the counter, and sends Betty an apologetic grimace. She smiles briefly in reply and waves him off, grabbing the milkshake with her other hand. "Sorry Betty," he sits up and makes his way to the customer, not bothering to and not seeing the point of fixing the crumpled state of his uniform when his shift ends in an hour. One hour left and he's free from work for another school term.

That thought alone cheers him up enough to speak to the woman with a forced smile and a robotic greeting. "Welcome to Pop's, what'll it be?"

"A gin and tonic," she replies without missing a beat, voice high-strung and high-pitched. "Or whatever it is you hobos drink to forget about your Loser-dom."

His face loses its faux-enthusiasm (which, he admits, was limited to begin with) when he realises that the Devil-incarnate itself is standing before him, flame-red hair slung limp over her shoulders.

"Always a pleasure," he replies dryly. "We have," he makes a clicking sound with his tongue, pretending to search the liquor cabinet, "Vodka for Alcoholic Teens, Whiskey for Ginger Trust-fund Babies, and my personal favourite: Blossom Heiress breaks the Law," Jughead pulls out a bottle of rum, then shakes his head somberly, "But no gin and tonic."

"No," she agrees, pearly-white teeth glistening from behind her lips, "But my brother just died, so I think I can get a free pass for today."

"Sorry for your loss, but no can do." Jughead, by all accounts, feels more sympathy for the rocks that get crushed under Cheryl Blossoms's heels than Cheryl herself. Hell, he doesn't even beat around the bush and do favours for Archie, whom he's known since birth, much less bend the law for Cheryl Blossom - dead brother or not.

But, apparently, Betty Cooper does. She practically comes running up to them, eyes twinkling like she's about to uncover a goldmine. "Jughead," she gives him a pointed look, "It's on me."

He clenches his jaw, makes sure the smirking Cheryl sees his stink-eye and takes Betty's proffered twenty-dollar note. Granted, he's underage too - turning sixteen this year - so he shouldn't even be allowed or be able to serve alcohol, but here he is. Serving it. "Thank you," he hears her whisper when he places the shot glasses on the counter.

Jughead shrugs, then slowly makes his way to the only booth that hasn't been cleaned yet, seizes Betty's half-finished smoothie with his left hand, and wipes the table down with a wet cloth. Hopefully, it's his last chore for the day. Hermione Lodge is replacing him in an hour when her graveyard shift starts, so he doesn't even need to lock up the diner or stack the chairs tonight.

As long as nothing too melodramatic happens for another forty minutes, he's well and truly done with work for the vacation. Done with the stupid travel-ban that Headmaster Weatherbee placed on him.

Granted, Jughead rarely travels during the summer vacations because he promised Jellybean he'd watch over FP (senior) for her. He does the bare minimum, has been doing so since FP started combining alcohol with Serpent business, but he tells JB that they're okay - that dad is working with Fred Andrews in construction, that he isn't using his magic to do bad things anymore. Lies, all lies.

Nothing good ever comes out of associating with the Serpents, especially not when it's in your blood. So he lies to avoid breaking Jellybean's heart. He tells her sugarcoated fairytales for her to think that her dad is a good man when he's really, really not. And in return for his lies, he sleeps on the streets at night, crashes in alleyways and showers in Riverdale High's bathrooms.

That's all going to change tomorrow, when he congregates at Archie's place to floo to Massachusetts. No more drunk father, deadbeat dad, lying Serpent, for another year - or at least until the next holiday.

And best of all, he thinks when he sees Betty consoling a sobbing Cheryl Blossom: no more dead men.


End file.
